Cause An' Effect
by CaptainTsukiko
Summary: When life gives you lemons—you feed them to the horse.


_Please, please don't do it._

Takaba wants to run away. But, his feet seem to be planted to the ground, and the metal pressing against his back hinders him from moving.

He doesn't want to die just _...yet._

 _Someone.. Save me.._

Takaba gulps. His hands are clammy, as he holds his weapon. No, no. It's good to have positive thinking. This is it. This is his chance. He can be saved. He needs to save his life. He can—and will—get out of this. But if not...Takaba takes a deep breath. His life is done for. The threat to his consciousness smirks across from him, eyes shining like daggers.

Takaba shifts his hands, his weapon is firm and cold, against his palms.

And there is it: the trigger.

"There goes your dress.."

Asami snickers at his crestfallen face.

Fuck it all— Takaba flips the checkered board. It hit the floor with an audible 'clang.'

"You cheated!" Asami must've. Or else, who the fuck wins against Takaba, the great master player of othello—three times in a row?

Asami snorts, "Can't you find another cliché excuse? That one is boring."

"The fact is fact. You cheated!"

"You just cannot accept _the fact_ that you're a sore loser."

"Cheater, Cheater," Takaba chanted. "Cheater, cheater— _teacher!_ " He shut up after realising his mistake.

"You still owe me a pink dress."

.

 _Dear audience, (I'm the narrator, if that's too hard to decipher, blame my master for her unable description) let's go and ...investigate, what caused Takaba the great-great-great player's_ ("Asami Ryuichi; learn something from him.") _**grave tragedy.**_ (The narrator wipes a tear and whimpers, murmuring 'how unfair was fate' and 'he was so young too.')

Takato's birthday had always (by 'always' Takaba means, literally always.) been a humongous celebration for them. Any of their birthdays were, actually. (Except sometimes, they purposefully 'forgot.' Their pockets aren't wells of money, after all... "Hey, don't judge! What would you do if _your_ girlfriend was such a pain in the ass?")

Since Takato's engagement, they didn't have much time to spare. Finding work, working. and running around chasing entitled shitlords ("Like yours truly, Asami.") ate up time and money. And this year, their dearest Takato had newly married. To top it off; they 'forgot' his reception. They decided to do something special. (By special, they mean, "being just ourselves, making fun of each other, and one that I will surely regret in the future.") Thus, Kou had come up with an idea, of celebrating two at once.

The special being: a sleepover party.

Now, don't yawn you hyperactive daisy dukes; it's not as boring as it sounds. There are some definitive pro's in this.

First plus point; no need to waste money on expensive restaurants. ("'Cause we all know, Takaba _cannot just_ do all a favour and butter his rich and ritzy landlord up for a night." "HEY! I have self-respect too, you know." "I am not sure if it is legal here, but you could seek out a doctor and have that over-sized sense of egoism surgically removed.")

Second point; extra junk food, and none of those slimy, atrocious things (not worthy of named 'food') being: _oysters with lemon._ (The waiter gave them a glance that said, "I see your ripped sneakers and wacky clothes." _) A_ _ **real**_ _high-class delicacy._

Unfortunately, the planning consisted of planning, drinking their heads off and consuming too many Twinkie's. The result: Takato turning up home as a drunken daisy. His wife had berated them, shouting her pretty face red about something called, "Today was our couples movie night" and "I'm never spending another valentine's with him again." ("Takato.. That's too pitiful.." "Nah. For us, everyday for eternity is valentines day~!" "Oh..." Takaba nods. "Uh-huh... So _that's_ why you still don't have kids." "What's that supposed to mean?!") Albeit, in spite of that bad news, she had also forbidden them of any sort of goofing off for a month.

A month.

 _A motherfucking month._

Seriously, what do women think they are? Hitler in khaki mini skirt?

They say (mostly married men say,) marrying is like walking on a thin rope, while your mom and wife are kicking the two trees the rope is tied to. Akihito thinks otherwise. Marrying is like, walking through a crowded mall while naked. You can't complain, 'cause _you_ are the one responsible, but—people are _staring through your dick._ Poor Takato, Akihito tutted, looking at Takato like this (being a slave and all) Akihito wants to swear to never marry.

But back to the shores. Akihito's current poor fate.

For friends, even the toughest mountains can be broken (except when they ask you to give them money) and so they did. They broke rule number one; _thou shalt_ _ **never break the order of thy significant other,**_ _especially if they're of the fairer sex._ (But If you do... May the gods help your sorry arse. The crazy bitch will go _Oppa Hannibal Lecter style_ on you.) Fortunately for them, Takato isn't as dumb as he might, very clearly, look. He carefully and _heroically_ managed to send away his wife to her mother. Under the farce of _I need to work in an isolated environment, because there is so much fucking work. There's piles of it, literally._ She ("unsurprisingly") believed him and left for a day. Very clever, Akihito had thought, maybe he could use that next time when Asami-the-gorilla comes to attack him.

And so, they had snuck in with two cartons of beer, thirty-six bags of potato chips and twenty blue films. And after guzzling on three drinks, wastage is a must. (It's a must. Even if it's scientifically impossible. That's the rule you never question. Never, ever, ever.)

They stared as the pornstar took in _two cocks at the same time._

 _"Holy shit,"_ Akihito's mouth hung open.

"Dang.. She has some big fucking titties." Kou drawled. Akihito took a large swig of burning alchohol. "Oh god.. I didn't even _think_ a vagina could do that. Nee, Taka-chan..?"

Takato sniffed his wife's bra, "Uh-yeah.. She's pretty hot," He said, like he didn't have that gigantic tent in his pants. (Liar, liar, pants on fire~) Takaba looked around with glazed eyes. "Why the heck is your room so freakin' messy?" The clean freak. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

"...My room's not messy," He declared, "I just have everything on display." Kou mimicked him in a high pitch, " _Have everything on display,_ he says. When did you start throwing around punch lines? I thought that was your wife's job." Akihito booed. "You're becoming too cliché, Takato~!"

Takato winded his arms on Akihito's shoulders, "You know what.." He whispered hoarsely. "What?" "Ugh... Life is such a bitch." Takaba leaned back. "Yeah.. Such a bitch."

"Oh no, my bad." Takato backed away into Kou. "It's just your fucking faces." Akihito threw a pillow at his sniggering form. "I'm pretty sexy you know! I have lines of women behind my back."

"Oh yeah? Prove it!" "Yeap, prove it!"

Tyre puncture. "...How?"

Kou slapped a hand to his cheek, pursing his lips. "Let the birthday boy decide."

"Me? Well..." Takato looked around him. Clothes, laptops, more clothes and some.. feminine stuff (which he does not wish to name) laid around in heaps, looking as pathetic as spongebob out of water. Only one thing stood out from the Everest. A hot pink mini dress. "—I dare you to wear that pink dress!" "Heh..." Akihito hiccuped. "Kuh.." He didn't clearly see what the object was, for his blurry sight and all. Akihito just lagged to put on the dress.

.

'Woot's + Whistles + friends forcing you, a man with Y chromosome and a fully functioning cock, to wear a dress = a dark future.

It was an equation that Takaba would _**never forget.**_

"Pfft." Takato snored on Kou's shoulder, as said man chortled. "This is _so_ gay~!"

Fuck them. Fuck you. Fuck me.

Akihito slumped on the shredded sofa.

Fuck this world.

—And fuck it's sexy yakuzas.

.

You can take a horse to water-but you can't make him drown in it.

But... if Akihito was the horse, and misfortune was the water, he'd be drowning and dead in it.

Most of Akihito's mornings started with subtractions from Asami and addition from Asami. ("Akihito just laid back and watched his ass be loony tuned."" _ **Oi..."**_ "With succulent moans of _'No uncle Asami, don't touch me there~!'_ " "Asami-you-how the heck did you enter my flashback?!" "Simple. I have _sex-eurity cameras_ all around your brain.") Never had he thought that he would hear his life ending as he woke up. He heard the flaky sounds of "hurry up, take Aki and get in the cab; she's coming" and a long, long, long (and suspiciously sweaty-smelling) time before he heard the sound of someone talking right beside his motherfucking ears. He turned to face a warm clothed ...something. His cheek felt like marshmallow squishing against a candy cane... So hard. Takaba grinned. So canoodle-able.

Then came an audible sound of air conditioning.

My, aren't people _just so caring_ when they see someone sleeping peacefully.

His sleep is much more expensive than cream foundation at Sephora. (Don't ask him how he knows that, you just see and believe.) _Calculated_ and a hundred an' twenty-six percent accurate, it is.

.

The first article he sees upon waking up is the ceiling, the clean room and his _hot pink fucking dress._

Asami is sitting on the couch, skewering documents as passively as a horse would behave with a cat. Said guy suddenly looks up. "Your friend brought you back."

"Ah 'kay..." Takaba doesn't want to ask that question, "Did you-"

"If you're asking if I broke his kneecaps or not... The answer is no." Takaba releases a breath. "You're friend was generous enough to carry you home. Why in the world would I do that? What do you think I am, _a yakuza_?" Asami flips a stray hair from his face. And Takaba suddenly imagines what it would be like if the man had long flowing glistening locks. Just like the samurai-slash-geisha style. He dismisses the idea a moment after. Nope. Doesn't work with Asami. Never. You see.. he's too macho. ("There exists no such thing as _too macho._ " "No one asked you.""I don't want to be looked down upon, just because other people have bad judgement skills.")

"You _are_ a yakuza."

" _NO.._ Not at all. Slightly X-rated businessman is more like it."

Takaba throws away the blanket, and he feels the gross swish of the dress against his skin, as Asami speaks:

"Takaba ... Don't worry. I'll still accept you." Takaba hears him sigh. "I've always known that you were an Okama at heart."

Takaba shut the bathroom door with a gargantuan 'Bang.'

Fuck my life.

.

"I liked that dress. Maybe I should buy you some more, Takaba? They suit you."

"Die. Be gone from this world, evil being,"

"Perhaps you're unable to recall; I have a little something of yours." Asami displays him his phone. It has a picture of him drooling on the bed with more than half of the dress skipping off his shoulders. "If you don't play good boy..."

"Die. The power of Christ compels you, demon."

"But you can have it back, if you win in a strip othello..."

.

"—DIE! You son of a bitch!"


End file.
